


Slightly to the Left

by xanzpet (gleefulmusings)



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-01
Updated: 2013-01-10
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:11:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gleefulmusings/pseuds/xanzpet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander and Spike have a few revelations about each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tease

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to one of my laughable attempts at porn, starring Xander and Spike, back when I still liked Spike.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Spike safely tied to a chair, Xander engages in a round of Taunt the Vampire. Things go farther than either expected.

Xander stepped out of the shower and quickly dried himself off, grumbling about the state of his life or lack thereof.  
  
He threw on his bedclothes and angrily toweled his hair, annoyed by the curls which always kinked up right after completion of lathery goodness. He padded out into the basement proper, where a smirking Spike sat in wait.  
  
Stupid vampire.  
  
Stupid Giles for making him _take care of_ the stupid vampire.

 _Oh, Xander, we simply cannot leave Spike to his own devices. He might dust himself._  
  
And where was the bad in that? Damned if he knew.  
  
Hello, was this not the vampire who, along with his off-the-beam former unlife partner, had snacked on other students? Who was partly responsible for the death of Kendra? Who had tried to kill Buffy? Had threatened Joyce and tried to bite Willow? Had tried to kill them all?  
  
Seriously, what the fuck was the problem here?  
  
 _Well, he did help me stop Angelus_ , Buffy had said.  
  
Well, big woo. Maybe they should throw him a parade! After all, look at all of the help Spike had been as of late. And _how_ much was that costing Giles? If he were the Watcher, he’d submit an itemized bill to the Slayer. Maybe Anya could help him get one together.  
  
So he figured it was okay if he tightened the ropes around Spike just a little more.  
  
Stupid vampire.  
  
If Spike hadn’t been forced upon him, he could have enjoying mind-shattering orgasms with his former demon-cum-nymphomaniac. It just wasn’t fair! He snapped the ropes unnecessarily, pleased when Spike involuntarily grimaced. Was he going to let it bother him? Hell no! It wasn’t as if he was cutting off any blood flow, right? Vampires were just blood bags made of dead meat.  
  
“Ew.”  
  
“See here, whelp! What are you ew-ing about?"  
  
“Your state of deadness.”  
  
“Oh, well, that’s all right, then. Cheers, mate.”  
  
“I’m not your mate, Spike," he grunted. "I’m your enemy. I’m your arch-nemesis. I’m your biggest nightmare.”  
  
“No, mate," the vampire shook his head, "having to wear your clothes was my biggest nightmare. Thanks for helping me work through that pain. I am now free of all of my greatest fears." He beamed. "You’re like Freddy Krueger for demons!”  
  
“I hate you.”  
  
“Well, then, I’m doing my job, right?”  
  
“You’re such an asshole.”  
  
“I’m a vampire, love. Goes with the territory. Evil here. Big bad.”  
  
“Yes, you look so big and bad tied to a chair in my basement." Xander snorted. "More like one of those whining bimbos bound to the railroad tracks waiting for the hero to charge in and save the day.”  
  
“Hey now! Who are you calling a bimbo? And you're no one’s hero.”  
  
“Aren’t you, though? A bimbo?" Xander asked, his brow furrowed. "You were pretty much Dru’s lackey, right?" He shuddered. "God only knows what you and Angelus got up to."  
  
Spike smirked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He paused as his eyes became hazy. “Yeah, I think you would at that. Shall I tell you, pet? Shall I tell you how naughty Angelus used to bend me over tombstones and plow into me as Drusilla clapped merrily and held tea parties for her dolls?”  
  
“Ugh!" Xander screeched, pulling a face. "Where’s that bleach you use on what passes for your hair? I need to soak my eyeballs. They’ve been seared by badness!”  
  
“This is my natural color!”  
  
He rolled his eyes. “Sure, Spike. You and Marilyn Monroe.”  
  
“Great tits on that one.” Spike leaned in a little closer. “I’ll tell you a secret. Those funbags weren’t real, you know. A lil nip n’plump, if you get my meaning." He nodded. "One of the first, she was.”  
  
Xander sighed.  
  
“Hey, I’m serious, here!" Spike insisted. "No need to lie about tits, is there?" He shook his head. "Don’t understand why lads today don’t get all offended if a bint’s boobs aren’t biodegradable. In my time, even the suggestion of stuffing was déclassé, but not now, oh no! Men don’t care if the center of a bird’s breast is filled with a foreign substance, yet they throw a guy out of baseball for corking his bat! Where’s the justice in that, I ask you?”  
  
Xander blinked and shook his head to clear it. He must be being punished for something. Probably for lying to Buffy that one time about Willow and the curse. Yeah, that was is it. The universe was pissed at him, so they saddled him with an even more annoying vampire as penance.

Karma was such a _bitch_.  
  
He grunted. “There. That should do it,” he said, finishing the last knot.  
  
“Are you sure?” the vampire drawled. “I mean, the nylon’s barely cutting into my skin. You know, it’s a good thing I don’t have an allergy, or else I’d sue.” He glanced dismissively at Xander, dressed in a wifebeater and a pair of sweatpants. “Guess it don’t matter much, anyway. You’d be safe. Told you before, you’re just not biteable.”  
  
“I am incredibly biteable!” barked the affronted boy. “You have no idea how many demons want to make with the Xan Love! You’d be lucky to sink those tartar-covered fangs into something this ripe and juicy!”  
  
“Tartar!”  
  
Xander shrugged. “Must be the nicotine, then, but they’re looking a little yellow.”  
  
Spike whimpered and Xander really liked the sound of that, of the Big Bad at his mercy. He suddenly remembered Buffy snickering about how she had teased Spike while the demon was chained up in Giles’ tub. Now he could understand why. The vampire was tied up in front of him, forced to listen to whatever he said, and there was nothing Spike could do. Even if he were free, he couldn’t bite anyone.  
  
Well, this was interesting, wasn’t it? If he couldn’t play with Anya tonight, he’d have a good time torturing Spike.  
  
He should start by making a list of all the ways in which both Angel and Angelus were superior vampires and then ask Spike to weigh in and justify his own shortcomings. Or he could fantasize out loud about what sex with Drusilla might be like. She was pretty hot for a vamp, and even she had fallen under that kooky love spell of Amy’s. Hell, she had saved him from Angelus!  
  
Oh, _that_ was something for the list: Angelus was a much better dresser.  
  
Spike watched the boy’s eyes cloud over and could tell he was up to something. He didn’t much care for that at all. Xander Harris was too annoying when they were in a crowd, let alone when it was just the two of them.  
  
He narrowed his eyes and cocked a brow. “What are you thinking?”  
  
“Oh, nothing, really," Xander tinkled. "Just picturing what it would be like to sink my dick into Drusilla. Hey, do girl vampires get wet, or do you use demon KY or something? Ever tried that warming gel? Does it work for you, or are vamps just always cold?”  
  
Spike sputtered. “Now you listen to me, whelp! If you think...”  
  
“Did you and Angelus share her? I’m betting she liked him better. He was her daddy, after all, right? That’s kinda kinky." He nodded. "Did she call him that as he cored her ass? Did _you_ call him that? What did he call you? Sonny Boy?"  
  
He cocked his head. "You must have had threesomes, I’m sure. Was Dru always in the middle, or was it you? Cuz, somehow, I don’t see Angelus spreading his cheeks for you. And where did Darla fit into all of it? She was a total bitch. I bet she used you for stud and then kicked you out of the bed like a dog.”  
  
Spike began frothing at the mouth.  
  
“I guess I can talk to you about this stuff,” Xander shrugged. “I mean, you could tell Buffy, but she’d never believe you. Even if she did, what do I care? She doesn’t want to think about you and Angel knocking the Doc Martens. Hey, why do you wear those anyway? They’re a little out of style. This whole seventies thing you’ve got going on? It’s so over. Good thing Angel now has Cordy to give him fashion tips. Maybe she can break up his black on black obsession. That was a good song. Did you ever hear it? By Heart? Hey, did you ever go to Studio 54?”  
  
Spike frowned and cocked his head, trying to keep with the prattle. It was a little dizzying. A little too much like talking with Dru.  
  
“I’ll tell you a secret, Spike,” he whispered. “I wondered what it would be like to do it with Angel. So, just between us boys, how was it? Or did you only have sex with Angelus?" He ran a hand through his still-damp hair. "He was pretty hot, too. All bad and stuff. That night he came to the hospital and got in my face? We both kept licking our lips." He took the opportunity to lick his lips once more. "Do you think that meant anything? Because those leather pants of his...they fit _really_ well. How big was he?”  
  
Spike’s mouth fell open.  
  
“I bet he’s huge. I mean, he’s so _tall_. Always looming, like a vulture. The beady eyes really make that look work for him." He frowned. "You know, I never really understood it. Angel’s hot in that catwalk kind of way, but his eyes are too close together, and he’s not much for the banter. Sometimes I thought he might have been a little, you know," he dropped his voice, " _slow_ , like he was riding the short bus through unlife."  
  
A host of other questions occurred to him. "Does getting turned affect your intelligence? Do you become smarter or dumber? I mean, I guess he’s smart in that esoteric way. He was always reading stuff like Camus and Sartre. Why, I can’t imagine. Maybe that’s part of his punishment? But he just doesn’t seem to _get_ people, if you know what I mean.”  
  
Spike’s lips twitched. Xander strolled over and straddled him, and he groaned with the extra weight.  
  
“Is this too close?”  
  
“A bit, yeah,” Spike barked.  
  
“Good. As I was saying, Angel...”  
  
Spike zoned out on the babble, all the while knowing this was a mistake, as it would afford the brat to lob unchecked slurs which were no doubt inferior to his own volleys. Right then, all he could think about was that Xander Harris was sitting atop him, quite languidly, almost as if such an action was natural and familiar, and though Xander was taller and heavier, it was a comfortable and welcome weight.  
  
He was further distracted by the heat of the boy’s body. He had always known Xander to be a hothead, but the boy’s entire being was almost volcanic, and Spike reveled in it, silently commanding his dead limbs to absorb every morsel. He suddenly realized that he was using Xander Harris, White Knight, as an electric blanket, and he snickered.  
  
“What’s so funny, Clorox?” the boy snarled.  
  
“Huh? Oh, nothing. You were saying something about the great pouf?”  
  
“Right.” Xander took the opportunity to settle himself into a more amenable position, and Spike quivered as he felt a toned, meaty thigh brush up against something quite personal. “I just don’t understand why...”  
  
Spike was now wishing the boy would either get off him completely or bear down for a ride, because it was only a matter of moments before Xander became aware that not everything about vampires was dead. And then Xander _did_ move and just as immediately stilled.  
  
“What’s that?”  
  
The vampire said nothing, peeking up from beneath his lashes at the boy, who’s own eyes appeared completely blank, but a slight upturn of one corner of his mouth indicated awareness, an awareness which suggested this entire situation had been engineered to contrive precisely this response. What a cheeky little bugger. Well, two could play that game.  
  
“Problem, Xander?” he purred, drawing out the name.  
  
The boy looked down and smirked. “Maybe. For you.”  
  
“And how is that, pet?”  
  
Xander leaned closer. “You know, Spike, if you ever tell anyone I said this, I’ll deny it, but you’re much prettier than Angel.”  
  
“I know," he nodded. "Wait. What?”  
  
“You’ve got a better body, too. Always thought that was kinda weird. I mean, you were supposedly a poet, right? Who knew Victorian poets were so cut?” He wormed his fingers under Spike’s t-shirt and began stroking the vampire’s abdominal muscles. “Nice,” he sighed. “I wish I could get a stomach like that, but I like Twinkies too much.”  
  
“Yours is a spot of all right.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
Spike nodded and suddenly felt the need to breathe. He began panting shallowly, his tongue trapping Xander’s scent on his taste buds: musk, some papaya nonsense from the shampoo, fresh laundry, and Ivory soap. It was a nice smell, kind of like a spring wind. Very Xander.  
  
“Does that feel good?” the boy whispered, continuing his deft strokes.  
  
“Yeah, s'nice.”  
  
“I should stop. We shouldn’t do this.”  
  
“I won’t tell!"  
  
Xander frowned and stared into the blue eyes. “You wouldn’t, would you? Why?”  
  
“I dunno.”  
  
“I suppose that’s as good an answer as any.” He leaned over and took one of Spike’s hands in his own. “I like your hands. Your fingers are long and...elegant.” He paused. “Why is your skin so soft? I like it. And you’re nice and cool.” He scooted forward a little and pressed his chest against that of Spike, causing both of them to shiver and moan.  
  
“Xan...der?” Spike panted, his voice an embarrassing plaintive whine.  
  
“Hm?”  
  
“What’s...I mean, what is this?”  
  
“Who cares?”  
  
“Right. Good point, that.”  
  
Xander reached up and began stroking Spike’s hair. “Mmm, soft. Thought it would be all stiff and gross. I’ve seen all the gel you put in it, but it’s soft. That’s so weird. Is it a vampy thing?”  
  
“I take good care of my hair.”  
  
“You do.” He leaned over and rested his head on top of Spike’s, his warm breath tickling the follicles, causing Spike to shake slightly. “Cold?”  
  
“Not anymore,” the vampire answered in a strangled voice.  
  
Xander placed a soft, dry kiss on Spike’s temple. “So you’re warm, then?”  
  
“Nice and toasty.”  
  
“That’s good,” he murmured, trailing his lips down behind Spike’s ear and worrying the patch of sensitive skin located just behind it. “You taste good, like smoke and leather.” Spike whimpered, causing Xander to chuckle, warm puffs of air caressing the shell of the vampire’s outer ear. “You like that?”  
  
“Ah! Gluh?”  
  
“See? I do some things _very_ well, Spike,” Xander purred, before he began nibbling on the ear, intermittently tracing it with his tongue.  
  
“You...you do at that, w-whelp.”  
  
The boy drew back just enough to stare again into Spike’s eyes, before dipping his head forward and pressing a gentle kiss to the vampire’s lips. Spike’s eyes instantly closed as his sigh was smothered. Tasting Xander was very different than smelling him. There were all of the scents, but added now were the emotions: lust, longing, hate, fear, and desire. A heady mix which caused Spike’s brain to fuzz. His eyes fluttered and he realized that Xander hadn’t closed his own eyes, his gaze still boring into him as if in critical study, assessing how every ministration affected the vampire.  
  
Spike suddenly gleaned why Anya called the boy a Viking. If he was this attentive to the details, he couldn’t imagine what Xander was like when it came time to fuck. Excited at the thought, he was helpless to stop the growl which erupted from his mouth. Xander broke the kiss and his brow furrowed, trying to figure out what had happened. Spike bit his lip to keep the pouting look off his face, wanting that delicious mouth right back where it was mere moments ago. But behind the questioning gaze, there was something else, something which Spike frantically tried to interpret. An offer? A suggestion? He couldn’t take it anymore.  
  
“Please,” he gasped. “Please, Xan. Anything. I’ll take anything.”  
  
In lieu of a response, Xander slowly rolled his hips, providing the vampire’s now dripping erection with much beloved friction.  
  
“Like that?” the boy chirped.  
  
“Yeah, just like that, pet.”  
  
“No nice talk,” Xander chided. “That’s not who we are. That’s not what this is.”  
  
Spike understood and sharply nodded. “Then piss or get off the pot, whelp.”  
  
“Much better,” the boy grinned, as he again rolled his hips, this time even slower, dragging his ass across Spike’s thighs. He reached around and up behind the vampire, grabbing a fistful of hair and yanking hard.  
  
Spike startled and growled harder, pleased when he saw a feral look in the boy’s eyes, smelling the excitement begin to suppress the doubt and fear. His gaze traveled down to Xander’s mouth, lips darkly pink and kiss-swollen, the even, white teeth chewing the lower lip. He struggled in vain against the ropes, but managed to work his hands up until they rested atop Xander’s thighs. He dug his fingers in and began kneading the muscle, smug with satisfaction when the boy gasped, threw back his head, and groaned his appreciation.  
  
“I could make you feel so good, Xan,” he whispered, “if only you would untie me.”  
  
Xander opened his eyes, and Spike almost came at seeing how black they had become, the pupils blown and all the color leeched from the irises.  
  
“But I like you all tied up and helpless,” Xander smiled, giving Spike’s hair another yank. “Nothing to stop me from doing whatever I want to you.”  
  
The vampire began vibrating. “Kinky little boy, aren’t you? Naughty, naughty. Whatever would the Slayer say?”  
  
At once, the boy stilled.  
  
“Sorry! Sorry! Forget the Slayer, pet!”  
  
The boy grimaced and swung a leg over and stood, angrily stalking away.  
  
“Xander, please!” Spike begged. “I’m sorry, okay?”  
  
Xander angrily opened and then slammed shut a dresser drawer before stomping back over. He once against sat in Spike’s lap, positioning himself so that the vampire’s cock was all but poised at his entrance.  
  
He smirked. “That’s what you’d like to do, isn’t it?”  
  
Spike opened his mouth to answer, and Xander took the opportunity to shove a sock in it.  
  
“The only way I can get you to shut up is to do it myself.”  
  
Spike’s eyes widened before he released a slur of invectives, all of which were beautifully muffled.  
  
“As I was saying, this is what you’d like to do, isn’t it?” Xander continued, as he once again began rolling his hips, shamelessly writhing in Spike’s lap. “Wouldn’t you like me to untie you, to unzip your jeans, to free your cock? Wouldn’t you like to be inside me, Spike?" He leaned forward and grasped the vampire's chin in his hand. "No one ever has. You could be the first.”  
  
Spike began nodding frantically.  
  
“I’ve thought about it," Xander said, smiling. "Oh, not necessarily with you, but I bet you’re good. I’ve thought about it with other guys. Angel, of course, and Riley. Even Giles, because beneath all that tweed, you just _know_ he’s a freak.”  
  
He leaned closer, his lips mere inches from the vampire's own.  
  
“Would you hurt me, Spike? I mean, I know you want to, but if I came to you willingly, asking you and only you to take me that way, would you be gentle? _Could_ you be gentle?”  
  
Suddenly, he turned pensive. “See, that’s what I like; I like to be wanted. I’d need to know that I was the only one you were thinking about. Could you do that for me? Could you come inside of me knowing that you were the only thing on my mind, knowing that I had chosen you above everyone else? That I put you first?”  
  
Spike had stopped nodding and looked into Xander’s eyes, his gaze searing.  
  
“I think you understand,” the boy whispered, dropping his head, “what it’s like to be the afterthought, to be the last resort. To be tolerated.” He sighed, bit his lip, and looked away.  
  
Spike desperately wanted to reach up and touch Xander’s face, to communicate with touch that, yes, he understood, that he knew exactly what the boy felt, what he had been put through, that it wasn’t fair, that they were as good as everyone else. That they mattered.  
  
“I really wish I could trust you,” Xander quietly said. “I wish things were different.” He exhaled. “But they’re not, and this is all we have.” He raised his gaze. “I’m going to take the sock out now, but I don’t want to talk anymore, okay? I just want to hear you. That really turns me on, to know that what I’m about to do you will get us both off.”  
  
At Spike's slow nod, he removed the obstruction.  
  
“I wanna fuck you," Spike blurted.  
  
The boy groaned and shifted his weight, bringing his cock against Spike’s, causing them both to hiss and shut their eyes. “Yeah, tell me how you’re gonna fuck me, Spike.”  
  
Spike arched his back in search of more friction. “Out on patrol one night, that’s when I’d do it. Take you by surprise, right? Even though I know you want it, want my big cock deep inside you.”  
  
Xander’s head dipped forward as he rested his forehead against he vampire’s. “That’s good. More.”  
  
“Gonna do this nice and slow, aren’t we love? Gonna do this right for both of us.”  
  
He arched again, thrusting his cock against the boy's. He looked down and licked his lips hungrily at what the boy had, wanting to touch it, to possess it, to feel its heavy weight on his tongue. He wanted to possess all of him, burying himself so deep inside the boy, Xander could never break free.  
  
“Somewhere secluded, but not totally out of the way, fully possible someone might meander by and catch me balls deep in That tight little ass.”  
  
“God."  
  
“That’s good, pet. I want you be as loud as you want, right? No one home, just me and you. Not gonna tell anyone, gonna keep this a secret between you and me, aren’t we? Dirty little secret.”  
  
“Dirty,” Xander repeated, his voice slurred.  
  
Spike chuckled. “You’re a dirty boy, aren’t you? Thinking about vampires and Watchers fucking your little virgin hole." He leaned up and nipped Xander's chin. "I’m gonna be the first, though, aren’t I? And after you realize what I can do to you, how I can make your body scream and sing for more, I’ll be the only one you’ll ever want that way.”  
  
He nudged his crotch forward a little more, delighting at how the boy choked at the contact, automatically jutting out his hips for more.  
  
“Big Bad taking you whenever and wherever I want, maybe even in front of your little gang of misbegotten White Hats, eh?" He threw his head back and cackled. "What do you think about that, Xan? Me bending you over the arm of the Watcher’s couch and fucking your ass in plain sight of all of them. Letting them hear you beg for it, letting them hear me whimper at how good you are. That’s so naughty, isn’t it? It's _wrong_.”  
  
Xander shouted his agreement, nothing more than a series of glottal stops.  
  
Spike tried his best to roll his hips, just enough so that their cocks again dragged against each other, the front of Xander’s pants now damp with sweat and pre-come, their combined scents driving him wild, making him want to do nothing but flip the boy on his stomach and drive into the pliant, lush flesh splayed so provocatively before him.  
  
“Gotta slow down, sweet,” he panted. “Don’t wanna rush this. Don’t want it to be over too soon. We got time. I’m gonna make it good for you, Xan. Promise." And before he could think better of his next words, they spilled out. "Not gonna hide you in a broom closet, not gonna toss you out in your underwear, not gonna demand you make me come simply because you can.”  
  
Xander stopped moving and blinked down at him.  
  
“Gonna make it good for you,” he repeated, whispering. “Show you how much I want you. Gonna tell everyone just how much.”  
  
As he spoke the words, he wondered how much of them were true and how much they were simply about knowing what Xander wanted to hear. And how the hell did he know all that, anyway? He supposed it didn’t matter much.  
  
Xander shuddered and leaned forward, draping himself over Spike, pressing his neck up against the vampire’s mouth, almost as if in submission, though Spike wasn’t sure if the gesture was unconscious or if the boy just wanted more contact.  
  
Tentatively, he reached out with his tongue and licked at the fiery skin, the nibble causing him to shudder in response as scent and taste and heat enveloped his senses. And that’s when he realized he didn’t care; all he wanted right then was the boy, and he’d take him any way Xander was willing to offer.  
  
“Beautiful,” he whispered, dismayed to hear the answering choked sob.  
  
Spike thought about how often he had wanted Angelus or Drusilla just to take a moment and look at him, to really look at him, and see him for what he was and wanting it all anyway. He and Xander were so much alike; _too_ much alike. Perhaps that had been the problem all along.  
  
“S’okay, brat,” he murmured. “You can cry. Not gonna tell, I promised. Cry, scream, anything you want. Just us.”  
  
Xander nodded and his soft hair tickled at Spike’s nose. The vampire inhaled with glee and a rumbling purr reverberated in his chest. The boy pulled back and Spike determined that, were it possible, Xander had just become even more turned on. Eyes now glowing yellow, he repeated the purr, marveling as Xander shuddered spastically.  
  
So responsive was his boy, so vulnerable to aural and tactile sensation. It was lovely and utterly charming. What he wouldn’t give to be free to use his fingertips to trace every patch of dusky skin, to map it out and commit to memory.  
  
“Please,” Xander moaned. “ _Please_ , Spike.”  
  
He vampire moaned in tandem, enraptured by the aching, wanton need in his boy’s voice. “Yeah, love. The first time I fuck you, gonna be nice and gentle. While we’re on patrol, right? That’s what we agreed.”  
  
Xander muttered something unintelligible and began writhing again.  
  
“Yeah, someplace dirty, where you never know who might be lurking about. An alley, perhaps? Courtyard of the Watcher’s apartment?" He shook his head. "No. Not patrol. Not yet." His eyes lighted. "Ah, I think that booth at that club you lot frequent. The Bronze. You know the booth I’m talking about, the one right near the stage? The velvet one? Yeah, that’s where it’ll be the first time. During one of the Wolf’s concerts.”  
  
Xander growled.  
  
“That’s what I like to hear, pet. I want you to growl for me, just for me. Gonna tear them straight from your throat," he promised. "Here’s how it’ll go: you’re at the club with the Slayer and the witch, waiting for the music to start. Just as they begin, I sneak in. Lights come down, I creep up to the booth. The Slayer and Red are so into the music, they don’t see me. You’re not sure what I’m about to do, so you try to move, get closer to your friend, and when you shift, that’s when I strike. Jeans already undone, my cock hard soon as I catch sight of you, you shift, and I slide right under that delectable ass of yours.”  
  
“Yes," Xander hissed. "Fuck me!”  
  
“Shh, it’s all right, pet. Gonna fuck you good and proper. Now, I want you to listen to your Spike and sit up a mo’.”  
  
Xander complied, panting, shaking, eyes a silent plea, skin flushed so dark it was almost purple, and it took everything inside of Spike not to come.  
  
“Need you trust me just a bit, okay? I want you to untie just one hand." He shook his head. "I’m not gonna try anything, pet, promise. Just one hand. Not gonna touch myself or you.”  
  
Suspicion momentarily clouded Xander’s eyes, causing Spike to deflate fractionally, but the boy’s curiosity got the better of him and he obeyed. Oddly, once it was done, he mourned for the restraints.  
  
“Suck on my fingers, love. Get ‘em nice and wet for Spike.”  
  
Xander grabbed his wrist and considered the hand before him. He licked his lips and brought Spike’s finger to his mouth, tentatively swiping at the index finger. Spike shivered, and Xander slipped the finger in his mouth. Spike gasped at the wet heat, the tight suction, grimacing when it evaporated just before his boy slipped another finger into his mouth.  
  
“Oh yeah,” Spike grunted, rubbing their cocks together once more. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you, love? You know what’s gonna happen.”  
  
Xander nodded as he continued sucking on the fingers, mouthing them greedily.  
  
“Such a good boy you are, pet," he sighed, closing his eyes. "Now, we’re in that booth, and while my fingers are in that hot little mouth, I’m using my other hand to pull down my jeans just a bit more, because when I sit you on my cock, I wanna feel as much of your skin on mine as I can. I feel the velvet under my ass; so soft, it’s so soft, Xan, but not as soft as your skin. Can’t wait to feel your skin."  
  
His eyes snapped open. "You’ve made me so hard, my cock’s already dribbling, just waiting to get it’s chance at you. I wrap my hand around it, spreading the pre-come about, so I can just slide right into you like butter.”  
  
Xander bucked and then clamped his thighs around Spike’s legs, trying to stave off his orgasm. The vampire winced at the force of the grip but began to enjoy it just the same.  
  
“You’re stronger than they give you credit for, I think." He grinned maniacally before his face lost all trace of mirth. "Wanna feel those legs gripped just like that around my waist as I burrow into you, leaving bruises on my hips," he snarled. He blinked. "Where were we? Yeah," he nodded, "stroking myself, getting ready, and then I reach forward and around and untie those cargo pants you like to wear. Good invention, those. Easy access. I reach in and feel your cock, so hard it aches, and I purr, knowing it’s me who’s made you that hard.”  
  
And then he purred and Xander screamed, choking on the fingers.  
  
“Easy, pet. I wriggle those pants down your hips and take a moment to admire the swell of your ass, thinking about how good it’s gonna feel for both of us once I’m inside. I push on your shoulder, pushing you up and forward just a little bit, and I slide underneath you. Not in you yet, but that sweet ass is sitting on my thigh, just waiting for it. Take my fingers out of your mouth, and slowly begin pushing one deep inside you.”  
  
Xander spat out the fingers and stood. Spike, horrified, tried to figure out what he had done wrong, only to marvel in appreciation when the boy shimmied out of his sweatpants and returned to his position, again taking Spike’s hand in his own. He looked at the vampire speculatively, and Spike slowly nodded. Xander parted his thighs, and brought Spike’s hand around and down beneath their joined legs.  
  
“Please, Spike?”  
  
“Yeah. Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groaned, as his finger sought entrance. As his knuckle breached the first ring of muscle, they both shouted their appreciation. “You okay?” he softly asked.  
  
Xander nodded, eyes lidded and feverish. “Burns. You make me burn, Spike.”  
  
The vampire’s mouth fell open as his eyes rolled back in his head. He felt as if he was being immolated, for nothing had ever been like this. The slick heat, the tightness, the aching need. Sweet Christ, why was this only happening now? He should’ve taken the boy the night Angel had offered him. They could have had years of this! He pushed in further, crooking his finger in search of that which he knew would drive his sweet boy absolutely wild.  
  
“Oh, _fuck_ ," Xander groaned.  
  
“Yeah,” Spike panted, now undulating his hips, having to make do with the friction provided by his jeans. “Shit, yeah," he grunted. You’re so fuckin' tight, Xan. Squeeze my finger, pet," he cooed. "Come on, now. Clamp down on it.”  
  
Xander obeyed, and they both grunted at the sensation. “More, Spike. I need _more_.”  
  
“Yeah, me too, love.” He added a second, and howled as Xander began fucking himself on his fingers. “That’s good, isn’t it? See how good your Spike can make you feel? All for you, Xan.”  
  
“Spike!”  
  
“Say my name,” he snapped, eyes glowing yellow. “Shout it just like that. Tell me how much you love it.”  
  
“Love it,” the boy gasped, before lolling his head and shouting the name again as he began setting a brutal pace. “Love you inside me, Spike.” He raised a hand and cupped the cheek of the vampire, who leaned into the caress. “My Spike. _Mine_.”  
  
“Yours.” Oh, _shit_. Had he really just said that?  
  
“Tell me...finish it...please!”  
  
“Sure, pet," Spike gasped, "whatever you need. We’re in the booth, and I’m working my fingers inside you, making you squirm and blush so pretty, your eyes wide and crazy, darting around, trying to make sure no one’s watching, not really caring if they are, because right then, all that exists is us and my waiting cock.”  
  
Xander whimpered and Spike had never heard anything so alluring.  
  
“Gonna lift you up and sit you right down on my big cock. Just a little at first, don’t wanna hurt you. Let you feel it, feel the burn, get used to it, until you start craving it, begging for it. I’m nibbling at your neck. You’re so delicious, Xan. My good, naughty boy, making his vampire fuck him in the club.”  
  
Xander began speeding up, his thrusting hips driving his cock up against Spike’s, who groaned.  
  
“Oh yeah, just like that. Take your shirt off, Xan. Take it off now.”  
  
The boy raced to comply, reaching up and all but tearing it from his body. Spike stared as the blood pooled near the surface of Xander’s skin. So hot, sweat beading all over, making him almost glow in the dim lights of the basement. His heaving chest, the shallow gasps, the feeling of that tight ass around his fingers, was becoming more than Spike could stand.  
  
“I push down on your shoulders,” Spike panted, “and make you take all of me at once, deep inside. Establish a nice, slow rhythm, in time with the music. I think by now the Wolf has caught onto us. He’s looking down at us with one of those inscrutable gazes of his, but it just makes me slow down even more, because I’m gonna make it last. Gonna give you everything I got and take everything you have.”  
  
“Close...”  
  
“Me too, pet, me too.”  
  
Xander couldn’t take it anymore. He reached down and undid Spike’s fly and carelessly pulled out the vampire’s aching cock. The hot fingers clamped around him finally did him in, and Spike’s balls drew up, his thighs quivering, as he began to spurt forth. Just as quickly, Xander gripped him around the base of his shaft, holding it off.  
  
“Please! Please, Xander! I have to come!”  
  
Xander said nothing as he inched forward and brought his cock flush with Spike’s, holding both in his hand as he began to pump them together, Spike’s fingers still pushing up into him.  
  
“Hell, _yes_!” the vampire roared, his fingers sliding out of Xander.  
  
The bellow sent them both over the edge, as they exploded across Xander’s chest, both breathing, raggedly, trying to gulp air into their lungs, patently avoiding the eyes of the other. As the seconds became minutes, words became hands, and Xander wrapped his arms and legs around Spike and buried his face in the vampire’s neck. For his part, Spike was torn at wanting to fling the boy off of him while simultaneously drawing him in closer.  
  
“Sorry,” Xander whispered.  
  
He couldn’t help but laugh. “You never need to apologize for that, love. It was bloody brilliant.”  
  
Xander pulled back and looked hesitantly into his eyes. “Yeah?”  
  
The hope in his voice was brittle and heartbreaking.  
  
“Yeah,” Spike quietly replied, nodding his head just so. He saw the boy’s head moving in and braced himself, welcoming the kiss he now knew would be both tender and fierce.  
  
Both were startled and let loose sharp shrieks when the sound of thunderous applause cracked across the room.  
  
They looked at each other before turning and craning their necks toward the source, and saw Anya, her head thrust between the rungs of the staircase railing, hands on either side of her, gripping the wooden slats so fiercely, her knuckles had turned white.  
  
“Do it again!”


	2. Crave

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spike wasn't even aware he had been hooked until Xander reeled him in.

Spike was prowling through the cemetery, trying to hone his senses to focus exclusively on his Nummy.  
  
His delicious boy was hiding somewhere about, just waiting for his vampire to pounce on his hot, lithe body. He supposed the whole game was rather inane, but Xander loved being pursued, loved knowing that he was being sought, and there were few things Spike enjoyed more than a good hunt. Got his juices going, stoked the fire.  
  
A gentle breeze wafted over him, and he tasted remnants of the demon bird’s perfume on the wind.  
  
Still surprised him a little that a no-nonsense bint like Anya indulged in such a bid of plaintive femininity, but he had watched her apply it in a meticulous, almost obsessive, ritual, no doubt dictated by one of her ridiculous magazines. Behind her ears, hollow of her neck, back of her wrists, cleavage, behind her knees. The mediocrity of the whole thing seemed to soothe her.  
  
He would sometimes watch Xander watching her, and it was a gut punch to realize how much his boy loved that girl. The Slayer and her witch dismissed it, as they tended to do with most things regarding Xander, their treatment of whom angered both Spike and Anya, but it merely rolled off Xander like water off a duck’s back. When pressed, the boy had simply shrugged and mentioned the cheerleader’s name, and that’s when both of them saw how much he had loved and continued to love Cordelia.  
  
Very few mortals surprised him anymore, it was all pretty much old hat, but the boy somehow always managed. Xander thought nothing of admitting that he still loved the cheerleader, adding that it had nothing to do with his love for Anya and whatever he felt for Spike, which was still rather depressingly ill-defined. The vampire knew the boy had similar places in his heart for the witch and the Slayer, her mother, and probably the Watcher and the Souled One, as well; he was aggrieved to discern that there was a place for the soldier, too.  
  
He wondered if there was a place for everyone whom Xander had ever encountered, as if not giving them one was somehow shameful to him, or perhaps it was the boy’s way of ensuring that no one was ever forgotten.

Those places weren’t all the same size, of course, and some were darker than others, but they were there. Xander didn’t see them as different, though. He loved; that’s what he did. There was no mystery about it to him, which made him all the more mysterious to Spike.  
  
He shook his head and forced himself to concentrate, distancing himself from Anya’s scent, for he knew, wherever she was lurking, he would not find his boy. When he and Xander played, she liked nothing more than to watch, so she would have found herself an ideal vantage point. Though he had expressed no hesitancy about including her in the game, Anya had no sexual interest in anyone who wasn’t Xander; odd, as she didn’t begrudge him whatever he had with Spike, though she ranted and raved at the Slayer and witch whenever either one of them looked at the boy twice.  
  
It took a while, but Spike had finally cottoned on: Anya was scared. She believed Buffy and Willow had the power to take Xander from her, and now Spike wondered if that fear didn’t have merit. Before, he never would have cared, but after tasting the boy, after holding him, he wasn’t ready to let him go just yet, if ever. And especially not for the Slayer; she had cost him enough already.  
  
Despite their games, Xander still refused to let Spike fuck him, and with the chip, there was little recourse left to the vampire other than to comply. Not that he would ever force the boy, of course, for he knew Xander could only be pushed so far.

He couldn’t exactly determine the reason for this wait, however; he knew Xander wanted him. They slept in the same bed, sometimes even showered together. They brought each other off with their hands on a regular basis, and Xander never protested when Spike slipped a finger or three into his naughty boy’s tight heat, but his pet always called a halt before there was any penetration.

It wasn’t so bad, he supposed; they still did lots of stuff, and nothing was more exciting than watching Xander’s face when he came, all mottled and wanton, gasping for breath, his heaving chest flushed with color.  
  
Spike felt himself grow hard and softly growled.

Where _was_ Xander? So good at hiding was his boy, a talent with which he hadn’t been born, but which had nonetheless been bred into him.  
  
He angrily shook his head. Right, best not to think of those things.  
  
Xander didn’t like to talk about his parents or his childhood, or anything other than Willow before Buffy had arrived in Sunnydale. The other boy, the one who had died, was off-limits, as was the great pouf. Xander absolutely refused to discuss Cordelia.  
  
Spike wondered if sometimes the boy wasn’t thinking of Angel when they were panting into each other’s necks, and he wondered why it wouldn’t bother him were it true. Actually, the idea of watching Angel take the boy was a serious turn-on, and he came to understand Anya a little better through that realization.  
  
He continued walking amongst the tombstones, his vision growing cloudy with the idea of watching his pet with others. Although Anya had authorized it, Xander refused to allow Spike to watch he and the girl fuck. Oh, Spike was allowed to listen, but never to watch, and the vampire realized his boy was rather evil. A welcome and disturbing thought, that was. Xander was tactile, Anya was visual, and he himself was aural; the boy had somehow instinctively known that Spike would come harder when he was forced only to listen, his imagination more powerful than any image unfolding before him.  
  
It was all one great big tease, and Spike was unsure as to whether he should be grateful or resentful. He liked that Xander innately understood what he enjoyed, but was annoyed that the boy could so effortlessly impose and enforce limits upon him, and that he himself allowed it. Still, there was something rather delectable about being forced to cede control, and it was certainly different from acting as the Slayer’s training dummy. And the way Anya screamed when the boy plowed into her...  
  
He stopped and doubled over, panting, trying to catch unnecessary breath.  
  
And now he thought of his boy with the pouf, watching Angel lose himself in Xander’s sweet, tight ass, watching the other vampire pull out and shoot across the boy's back. It had been so long since he had been able to think of Angel sexually without both mourning and cursing Angelus. Now, he longed to see Angel undone, completely free, if only for a few brief moments, to see the consternation on his face; dreaming of how Xander would insist on his presence, warning Angel that he was not to touch the other vampire.  
  
He thought of Xander and the soldier, Riley’s face a flushed mask of pleasure and pain as Xander took him over and over, watching his boy push the soldier’s smug face into the mattress and mounting him, invading him with no mercy. Spike knew Riley would be begging for it; natural bottom, that boy was. Thought about what the Slayer would do if she were to witness it. He snickered. Probably would send her spare, even as her fingers worked their way into her sopping panties. He snorted. Girl was a freak, even if she hadn’t realized it yet.  
  
“Where are you, Nummy?” he whispered, knowing no matter how far away his boy was, Xander would somehow hear him. “Your Spike wants a lil’ nibble.”  
  
He thought he heard Anya's gentle laughter.  
  
Xander was more versatile than either Angel or Riley, as Spike himself was. They both liked the power and control, but didn’t mind surrendering it to the person of their choosing. He knew Xander would allow Angel to fuck him, but had no doubt that the soldier would be grabbing his ankles for the boy.

Spike began whistling a jaunty tune as he thought of his pet pushing into the soldier, only for Angel to come up behind Xander and begin slowly fucking him, every thrust causing Xander to burrow more deeply into Riley.  
  
He’d have to tell that one to Anya; not only would she enjoy it, but she’d be able to flesh it out and parrot it back at him with wonderful detail. He was ready to start wanking right there, but another breeze caressed his face and he growled, knowing where he would find his pet.  
  
Hunt was over. He wanted the boy now. Wanted whatever the boy was willing to concede. Needed him so badly it was like cold fire burning in his gut, like a fist which struck and then unfolded to knead the bruised tissue, infusing warmth. He leapt over a series of graves and dodged into a thicket of kudzu, not bothering to go around. No time.  
  
And then he realized that Xander _wanted_ to be found. Oh, his boy was ready for him!  
  
He emerged into a small glen, in which a rather large statue of an angel was the only adornment. He took a moment to marvel at the irony. He scented again and moaned as the pheromones washed over him, eucalyptus underscored with the boy’s signature musk. Xander was somewhere close, doing something very naughty. And without him!  
  
He stalked over to the other side of the statue and looked down.  
  
“You started without me,” he mournfully whispered.  
  
“Couldn’t wait,” Xander gasped, his eyes rolling into the back of his head. He laid there naked, the moonlight giving his dusky skin a carnal glow, his legs slightly bent at the knees, his back sprawled against the masonry, languidly pulling on his cock.  
  
“Was thinking of you. Thinking of you looking for me, wanting me, doing things to me. Got so hard, couldn’t walk anymore.” He looked up at the vampire. “Take your clothes off,” he said slowly, deliberately.  
  
Spike cocked his head and considered the request.  
  
“Now. Everything. I want to see you, all of you. Now!”  
  
Spike shivered at the proprietary tone, barely disguising the naked want and aching need.

Up until now, most of their games still involved clothing. Xander liked the friction Spike’s jeans allowed when he rubbed on him; Spike liked Xander in a t-shirt, boxers, and white socks. Didn’t know why; didn’t much care, either.

He looked over, and next to the boy were his clothes, carefully folded and stacked, a small physical reminder of order in their emotional chaos.

Now, Xander was demanding a display. He smirked and shrugged out of his duster, the smirk turning into a smug smile as Xander stared longingly at his crotch.  
  
“Fabulous, isn’t it?” Spike purred.  
  
“Less talking, more nudity.”  
  
The vampire quaked at the hunger. He slowly teased the snug t-shirt up his torso, grinning almost self-consciously when Xander licked his lips. He tugged it up over his head and shuddered as the cool air hit his cooler skin, before suddenly turning shy.  
  
“Beautiful,” Xander whispered.  
  
Spike was about to beg, but stared in incredulity as Xander pitched himself forward onto hands and knees and began slinking toward him.

“Pet?” he trembled.  
  
Xander knelt before him and looked up, blinking owlishly, his face that of an incubus, and Spike saw nothing but lust staring back. The boy leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on the vampire’s stomach, causing muscles to contract involuntarily. Slowly, Xander, now crouching on his haunches, kissed a trail up the alabaster skin until he found a pink, puckered nipple, which he immediately took into his mouth.  
  
Spike swore a blue streak, his curses nothing but whispered filth as he viciously threaded his fingers through the boy’s hair and yanked hard on the sable locks. Xander offered an appreciative groan and bit down.  
  
“Fuck, yeah,” the vampire growled. “Just like that, pet. Don’t be afraid to use your teeth. Don’t need my say-so.” He closed his eyes. “Poor is the man whose pleasures depend on the permission of another.”  
  
Xander pulled back and looked up at him before he burst out laughing.  
  
“You,” he wheezed, “you’re quoting Madonna?”  
  
“Hey!” Spike barked. “I like that song! Was a good one!” He stepped forward and grabbed Xander’s head, forcing it back against his chest, reveling in the way the boy’s hair tickled at his skin. “You like it, too, don’t you, pretty? Wouldn’t you like to do those things? Run naked in a rainstorm? The sweet scent of summer hanging heavy in the air as the warm water hits your body? Me chasing you.”  
  
Xander gurgled.  
  
“Yeah,” he smiled. “Thought you’d like that." He bared his fangs. "Gonna chase you, pet. Gonna hunt you down in the rain." He sighed and rolled his neck. "It’ll be difficult; the storm will wash away your scent, but I’ll find you. You can’t escape me, Xander. I’ll always find you.”  
  
He delivered the last line with perhaps more menace than he had intended, but the effect was just as welcomed. The boy made a noise which Spike thought was a little too close to a sob. He didn’t want his boy to be sad, so it was time to step it up a notch.  
  
“How’d the rest go, love? Make love on a train, cross-country? Yeah, that’s it. Would you like that, pet?" He frowned. "Although a train is rather boring, isn't? The subway is so much more interesting.” He gasped as Xander began licking his stomach, the deft tongue popping in and out of his navel. “So good, pet. You’re so fucking good.”  
  
“More,” Xander rasped.  
  
“Right. Subway, wasn’t it?" He nodded. "Yeah. The one in New York, I think. Ever been, love?” he began stroking Xander’s hair. “No? It’s been a while for me. Good memories on the subway. The benches line up and down the sides of the car. None of those sodding booths the Europeans are so fond off. Wide aisles. But who needs aisles, right, pet? Not when I can take you on one of those narrow benches."  
  
He smirked. "Hmm, what to do? Should I just pick you up and slam you down onto my hard cock? Perhaps yank your hair and pull your head back, forcing you to take me deeper, to places you didn’t even know your body had?”  
  
He punctuated his question with a vicious yank to the boy’s hair. “I'd like that, but I wouldn’t be able to see your face. See, I like to watch you, watch your eyes grow huge and bright, hazy with lust, all of it for me.”  
  
He sighed almost wistfully. “Right. Think I’ll have you straddle me. My cock poking through the zipper of my denims. Have to make sure you’re wearing something soft, something cotton. No undies," he scolded, wagging his finger. "Can you feel the material caressing your ass?”  
  
“Want it to be your fingers."  
  
“There’s my naughty boy,” he smirked. “You like your Spike’s fingers in your tight little ass, don’t you?” He beamed at the boy's frantic nod. “Reaching, reaching deep, to find that spot. You know the one I mean. The one I hit that makes you see nothing but white and hear nothing but buzzing.”  
  
Xander gave a piteous moan.  
  
“There, there,” Spike consoled. “Soon, pretty. Such a good boy, you are. But for right now, back to the fantasy, shall we? Sweatpants, I believe. You’re straddling me, my dick free and hard, and I reach between your legs,” he paused as Xander’s breathing became erratic and labored, “find the seam, and tear open a hole right next to your own hole, yes? That’s nice, isn’t it? What’s that? You have lube in your pocket! How thoughtful! Have to give you a pressie, then, don’t I? Have to reward my good boy.”  
  
“Please,” Xander whispered.  
  
“Soon, lovely; quite soon, I think. Now, can you feel the slick as I pour it onto your fingers? Silky, isn’t it? Feels so good. Can’t think of anything that would feel better. You know what to do with that, don’t you pet?”

The boy nodded again, his hands now fluttering at Spike’s belt.

“What do you want, love?” he softly asked. “Just tell me. I’ll do anything for my boy, but I need to hear the words.”  
  
“Please,” Xander repeated, his voice broken.  
  
“Please what? Be specific, pet. I want you to tell me exactly what you want your Spike to do.”  
  
“Take your pants off,” the boy slurred. “Need to see.”  
  
“You want to see my cock, sweet? See how hard it is? How hard you make me?”  
  
“Yes!”  
  
“There, now that wasn’t so bad, was it? I’ll always do what you want, Xan. You just have to tell me.” With that, he began slowly unbuckling his belt, pausing when he heard his boy sigh. “What, pet? What is it? Oh, do you want to help?”  
  
Xander looked up and nodded, his eyes impossibly huge and black.  
  
Spike gave a spastic shudder. “All right, then. Go ahead, love. You do exactly what you want. Is there anything I can do to help?”  
  
“Keep talking. Dirty.”  
  
The vampire groaned, knowing this was for his benefit as much as for Xander’s, as he felt his boy’s fingertips dip into his waistband, the strong, calloused hands clumsy and fumbling, racing desperately.  
  
“Dirty, is it? You want me to speak filth, is that right? You naughty, naughty little boy. One day soon, I think I shall have to bend you over my knee and spank you.”  
  
Xander began quivering, his hands now riddled with tremors.  
  
“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Spike leered. “You’d like your vampire to take you over his knee, paddle that sweet little behind of yours until it’s swollen like a ripe plum, yeah? Maybe when I’m done, I’ll be kind and stick inside a finger or two. Would you like that, pet? I think you would. You’re such a little slut, aren’t you, Xan? So dirty. Naughty boy. The others don’t know, do they? Our secret. Just between you and me. Dirty whore.”  
  
And he knew he had said the wrong thing, even before Xander stiffened and pulled away.  
  
“I’m not a whore.”  
  
“No, you’re not,” Spike quietly said. “I’m sorry. I got carried away.”  
  
“I’m not bad. This isn’t bad.” Despite his conviction, Xander's voice was unsure.  
  
“No, it’s not. There’s nothing wrong with what we’re doing; Anya knows and she approves. It’s no one else’s business, and I won’t ever tell. I promised. You remember, pet?" He cupped in his hand Xander's cheek. "That first night in the basement? I swore I would never tell, and I never will.”  
  
“Why did you call me that?”  
  
Oh, shit. This was worse than he thought; he had hurt his boy’s feelings. Blast! Always shooting his mouth off at the worst times!  
  
“I’m sorry, love,” he repeated, “I didn’t mean to upset you, honest. I just got caught up.”  
  
“Angelus used to call you that.”  
  
He hesitated briefly. “Yes.”  
  
“Did you like it?”  
  
Spike bit his lip. “Sometimes. Depending on what he did to me.”  
  
“I won’t hurt you.”  
  
He set his jaw and shut his eyes. “I know you won’t. I won’t hurt you, either.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“You... _do_ you?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
“How?”  
  
Xander shrugged. “I just do. Spike, I...”  
  
“Me too.”  
  
“How do you know what I was going to say?”  
  
“I don’t. Don’t need to, do I? Doesn’t matter right now, does it? Just words. But I do, too. To everything.”  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
“You’re welcome.” The words came easily, even though there was a dim awareness in his head which screamed that he was being manipulated, and while he didn’t put it past his boy to do such a thing, he doubted that, at that moment, either of them were thinking beyond getting off.  
  
“Um. Can we rewind?”  
  
He gave a light chuckle. “We can. Now, where were we? Ah, yes.” He pulled Xander back toward him. “I believe you were undoing my pants, and I was telling you about how I want to fuck you in the middle of a subway car. Did I tell you about all the people there, pet? How they’re watching us?”  
  
“Spike!”  
  
“Love it when you scream my name,” he moaned. “Soon, one day soon, you’ll be screaming it for hours when you finally let me in. Gonna fuck you so good, my name will be the only word you know.”  
  
“Oh, god.”  
  
“Yeah, that’s all right, then; you can remember that one, too. You’ll be screaming for him, as well. Gonna scream for God, His Mother, and all the saints when I finally drive into you." He ran his fingers through the boy's hair, nails digging into the tender flesh of the scalp. "It’s gonna be so good, Xan. Gonna make it just right for you, do everything you want. And when I’m done, you’re gonna fuck me, too.”  
  
Xander began babbling at such a speed that Spike became worried.  
  
“Easy, pet,” he cautioned. “Easy. I won’t just take, I’ll give. You want to be inside me, Xan? You can be. It’s been so long, so long since there was someone I wanted that way. Someone who asked first.” He started at the sudden wetness on his skin. “Don’t cry, love. Don’t cry for me. All in the past. That was forever ago, and this is now, and we’re us, and that stuff doesn’t matter anymore. You wouldn’t hurt me.”  
  
“Never,” Xander whispered, shaking his head.  
  
“Then let’s move on, shall we? I believe you were about to pull down my jeans. I don’t wear underwear, you know.”  
  
“I want you in my mouth.”  
  
Spike stilled and swallowed heavily. “Pet, are you sure? We haven't... If you’re not ready...” But he was cut off as Xander tore the belt from the loops and savagely peeled his jeans down his legs, taking the large cock in a warm hand. “Xan?”  
  
“I can taste you, even in my dreams.”  
  
The vampire grunted; he knew what the boy was after, and he was more than happy to comply.  
  
“You dream of my cock, do you? Like to fantasize about it in your mouth? I think I rather like that." He nodded. "All right, then; give it a go. Show me you deserve to suck my dick.”  
  
He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, knowing the boy had never done this before, but he didn’t care; as long as Xander’s mouth was on his prick, the boy could do anything he wanted.  
  
Xander began gagging but was determined in his endeavor, even when Spike tried to pull back a bit, but the boy simply slapped away his hands.  
  
“Oh, Xan, so _good_ ," he sighed, his head falling back. "You’re _so_ good. Can you take me deeper, pet?” he asked as he hit the back of the boy’s throat.  
  
Xander forced himself to relax his throat, and Spike suddenly found himself sliding in more deeply.  
  
“Glorious,” he whispered. “Here, love. Just hold still, all right? Let me fuck your face.”  
  
Xander stopped his ministrations, offering a plaintive wail as he felt Spike grab either side of his head.  
  
“That’s lovely,” the vampire purred, easing himself in and out from between the boy’s lips. “Fuck, Xan, do you have any idea how fucking hot you are right now with my cock in your mouth?" he asked, looking down into the boy's eyes. "Such a sweet, pretty mouth, too. So warm and wet. Feels like it was created just for me. Perfect size. Do you like my taste, pet? Is it what you thought?”  
  
Xander growled, curling his upper lip and baring his teeth, his body thrumming when Spike slurred another string of invectives.  
  
“Shit, yeah,” Spike whimpered. “Don’t be afraid to be a little rough. I like that, you know. I can take it. Don’t hold back with me, love. I can take it all.”  
  
He sped up his movements, delighting in the copious drool now coating his cock, wanting nothing more than to flip the boy over on his stomach and bury himself in the tightest place he had ever imagined. Too soon, though, it was too soon. Xander wasn’t ready, and he wasn’t gonna push it. Didn’t want to do anything that would cause his boy to put an end to all of this.  
  
He breathed in deeply through his nose and scented, smiling as Anya’s climax reached his nostrils. She was a dizzy bint, but a spot of all right. Just wanted her boy to be happy. Nice girl.  
  
He began ramming his hips toward the boy’s mouth, every now and again pausing to fill it up, astonished and tickled that the boy had learned, in only a few minutes, how to suck a cock with more pomp and skill than Angelus had ever been able to muster.  
  
“Good boy,” he praised. “Your mouth’s made for sucking dick, isn’t it? You do it so well." He bent closer. "Tell me, pet, just between us, am I the only one you ever thought of doing this to?”  
  
Xander gagged again as his eyes swiftly looked up into his face.  
  
“Not mad,” Spike whispered. “Gets me hot, thinking about you with others. Listening to it, watching it. Not sure I’d ever want it to happen, but I enjoy thinking about it.” He paused. "I wonder how Anya stands it. That's a great chit you got there, pet."  
  
Xander blinked once, and Spike took that as agreement for everything.  
  
“That’s a good lad. Angelus, was it? Remember how you asked me before how big he was? He’s fucking huge, pet. Bout ripped in two the first time he took me." He shook his head. "Don’t know how the Slayer did it, but maybe he was gentler with her." He shrugged and then grinned. "That’s not for us, though, is it, love? Like it dirty and a lil’ rough, don’t we? No shame in that. None at all.”  
  
The boy gave a guttural moan, the vibrations causing Spike’s balls to tense up. Noticing the reaction, Xander began humming behind his palate.  
  
“Fucking hell, pet!” Spike all but screeched. “Genius! So good."  
  
He ran his tongue over his lips and pinched a nipple, before softly sighing, loving the feel of Xander's mouth on his cock, of the boy's fingernails rending his ass.  
  
"Who else, then? The soldier?" He looked around and then dropped his voice. "I’ll lie if you ever repeat this - not that you would, of course - but I bet that farmboy is an amazing fuck." He curled a lip. "Probably the only thing he’s good for." He smirked. "You’ve looked, haven’t you, pet? His tight ass, those feet and hands. Slayer’s prolly never been so satisfied. He’s even taller than the pouf, isn’t he? Such broad shoulders, could probably hang from them."  
  
He cocked his head. "See, love, I don’t think it would take much work on your part at all for you to have him. I bet you could have his ass in the air ready to take your cock within twenty minutes.”  
  
At Xander's choke, he laughed. “You think you’re the only one who’s looked? I’ve seen him watching you, stealing a peek when the Slayer isn’t looking." He shook his head in fond exasperation. "You all do that, you know. You’ve checked them all out, as they have you. No harm; it’s just looking, right? But I want you to know, to _understand_ , there's not one of them you couldn't have.”  
  
The boy reached down, and Spike looked to see what his pet was doing.  
  
“Good boy,” he encouraged. “Touch yourself. Make it hard and fast, because I want to see you come. Your face is so fucking beautiful when you come, love. All flushed and tight, so free and debauched; like a cherub, you are, like something out of an old painting.”  
  
He groaned again. “Close, I’m so close, pet. Are you? Good. Now, I want you to picture this: you’re in that chair, the one in the basement, and you’re naked. I come home from a quick snog and grope, but I don’t see you right away." He shrugged. "Don’t know why, don’t much care. I stalk past you, taking off my clothes, needing to get in the shower, because I’m dirty, and before I know what’s happening, your hands are on my waist, and you’re pushing me down on that lovely cock of yours."  
  
He began panting at the thought. Of course! He should have just had the boy fuck _him_! Stupid!  
  
"I scream, I cry, and I beg for more, because it’s all for you. Only want you. And then I’m bouncing on your dick, trying to take it deeper, wanting you to fill me up so completely that I won’t know anything but you.”  
  
Xander screamed around his mouthful of cock and exploded into his hand.  
  
“That’s my boy!” Spike cheered. “So delicious. Wanna taste it. Wanna taste you.”  
  
He held out his hand, and Xander grasped it, the come slick and oozing between their joined fingers. Spike pulled back and thrust his fingers into his mouth, shuddering at the exquisite taste; he should have know his boy would be sweet in all things. He cleaned his hand with his tongue and began retracting his dick from the boy's mouth.  
  
“Close, love. Gonna come. Gotta come," he groaned. "I don’t think you’re ready to swallow, not yet, but when I return this gift, and I will, I’m gonna swallow every drop.”  
  
Xander gasped as Spike pulled free, his lips tingling and jaw sore. “On me,” he hissed.  
  
Spike blinked. “Wot?”  
  
“Come on me, on my face.”  
  
“Pet?” he asked, his voice a strangled sob. He couldn't hold back much more.  
  
“Do it! On me!”  
  
Spike shuddered again, his entire body contracting and ready to fold in on itself, his toes curling in his boots and threatening to unbalance him. He saw nothing but black as he spurt forth, past control, past caring, and then he felt Xander’s hand wind around him, and when his vision returned, he looked down to see his boy’s face covered. He wanted to fall to his knees and lick it off, swirling it between their tongues, tasting him together, but Xander immediately inhaled his cock once more, the wet suction further inflaming the over-sensitized flesh.  
  
“Jesus bloody Christ!” he screamed. “More!”  
  
Xander continued, milking every drop and cleaning him as best he could, licking here and there, around the head, sucking the balls into his mouth, placing gentle kisses on pale thighs still rigid with exertion and disbelief.  
  
“Brilliant,” Spike sighed, voice hoarse, before he collapsed to his knees. He leaned forward and took Xander’s sticky face in his hands. “You’re amazing. You’re my perfect boy. My dirty boy. All mine.”  
  
“Yours."  
  
Eyes burned yellow at the acknowledgment, and Spike wanted to fuck him so bad, he almost lost consciousness.  
  
They moved toward each other, a kiss the most fitting end, and were caught off guard yet unsurprised when they began seeing small flashes of light, like fireflies. Spike sighed as Xander snickered, their foreheads touching briefly, before they turned and saw Anya standing a few feet away, beaming, with a digital camera in her hand.  
  
“New screensaver!”


End file.
